Our Dramatic First Stop in Newfoundland

Our North Basin anchorage for our first 3 nights in Newfoundland.

The entrance of our first fjord.

The passageway was narrow and very few boats other than dinghies have even attempted the ¼-mile passage to upper reaches of the fjord and waterfall.  As I motored slowly around the first curve, Dick was standing at the bow to look for rocks and measure depths with a drop line.  Suddenly Dick shouted “shallow water to starboard” and then “only 1.5 feet!”  As Salty Paws draws 2.5 feet, I quickly put the motor in reverse and redirected the boat more to port.  We continued to move forward with the other two Rosboroughs in a line behind us. 

I wasn't prepared for my first view of
the 200-foot waterfall in North Basin.

Then the waterfall appeared, a stunning 200-foot cascade of water dropping into the small North Basin surrounded by mountains.  Dick yelled “pay attention to steering the boat!”  Of course, I was successfully multi-tasking but returned to focusing exclusively on my primary duties.  We passed over one more shallow area and then were in the 20-foot-deep basin.  Suddenly, the radio boomed with Rob on Seahag shouting “I don’t like this!”  Then, “I have hit ground.”  Fortunately, Rob was able to slide his boat over this, and soon all the boats were safely anchored in the basin, the most beautiful anchorage that any of us have experienced.

Salty Paws at anchor in the North Basin.

Another view of Salty Paws at anchor.

Sunset in the North Basin.

Sea Hag and Vega shortly after dawn on our 2nd day in Newfoundland.

Otto, Rob and Dick enjoying the view
from the top. 

The day earlier we had used our portable gas cans to fill up our boats at anchor in Ingonish Harbor.  I had wanted to transport to and from the gas station ½ mile away using my wagon but was overruled when Otto was able to find a taxi with the slogan “You Go. I Go!”   Later we dinghied around the harbor to the Mt. Cape Smokey ski area and noticed they had a gondola operating to the top.  I said “Let’s go,” while Rob lamented that he did not bring his wallet.  [From then on, Rob came with everything on our excursions as one never knows what may come up.] 

The beginning of our crossing.

The next morning everyone arose early for the 110-mile passage across the Cabot Strait to the Harbour Le Cou fjord, Newfoundland.  Our three boats left the Harbor at 5:30 am and were soon in open waters averaging 9-10 mph.  The winds were light, and the swells were only a foot and spaced 7 seconds apart.  It was one of the most peaceful open-water crossing I have ever experienced.

A pod of pilot whales.

Enroute, we saw a finback whale, a sunfish, a lonely immature gannet, 10 or so dolphins and over 100 pilot whales.  These small, black whales travel in pods, have a large dorsal fin and a bulbus head.   Surprisingly, we were never out of sight of land given the high coastlines of both Cape Breton and Newfoundland.

After our first night in Newfoundland, I arose early and told a groggy Dick that I was going to row around the basin taking pictures and possibly hiking up the falls a bit.  Otto was already finishing breakfast and was up for joining me.  In short order we were ashore trying to figure out where a trail might be, if any.  There was none.  We ended up hiking along the shore and then much of the way up the left side of the waterfall, alternating between dry and water-covered rocks.  It was slow going, and many times we had to grab shrub branches for support.

 We finally reached a waterfall coming over a 10-foot slab that was impossible to pass without bushwacking through the brush.  After a few scratches on our legs, we came out in the short tundra.  The tree line was now below us.  The main peak was before us, and I said to Otto “let’s go to the top.”  He replied, “you mean that ridge there?”  I responded “no, all the way!”  Otto has not done a lot of hiking, but fortunately, he does adhere the philosophy of taking advantage of every opportunity.   We weaved over the tundra and outcroppings to find at least an acceptable route, if not the best, to the top.  An hour later Otto and I were on the top enjoying stunning views in all directions, including the long lake that feeds our waterfall.

Some views from the our hike -

Harbour Le Cou pier.

Otto and I finally returned to the waterfall base and our boats and had just a brief respite before our next adventure.  In an hour all four of us were in our dinghies for the 2-mile ride to Harbor Le Cou near the mouth of the fjord.  We tied up to the pier, severely damaged by Fiona in 2022, and immediately met a friendly, yet reserved local.  He taught us how to say “Newfoundland.”  We then trekked the two miles to the Rose Blanche Lighthouse.  

Rob, Otto, Dick and me on the way to the Lighthouse with Rose Blanche in the background.

The rebuilt Rose Blanche Lighthouse.  It was also the site of our
first cell service in a few days!

The stone Lighthouse was first built in 1870’s and operated until decommissioned in the 1940’s.  It slowly deteriorated, and each storm destroyed more of the structure, ultimately just leaving the light tower.  A local movement to restore the lighthouse begin in the 1980s.  After much preparation and local training in the traditional Scottish stonework, the lighthouse reopened in 1999.  It is a true restoration with 4-foot think walls and re-creation of the keeper’s quarters. 
 

Rose Blanche from the Lighthouse.

Dick and I hiked the town trail
 along the waterfront.

After a great lunch of perfectly cooked cod from the Grub Shack at the Lighthouse parking lot, Otto and Rob started the trek back to their dinghy while Dick and I went to explore Rose Blanche.  We talked to some locals who mentioned that the local community was severely impacted when the road from Port aux Basque was extended to reach Rose Blanche and Harbour Le Cou in the 1960s.  Soon the grocery store, the hardware store the few restaurants and more closed their doors, unable to compete with what was now available by car.

We hiked to Barachois Falls in light rain.

 
The last local we talked to was James who educated us on how the locals can survive by fishing, crabbing and lobstering on their open 20-foot boats.  A nice local house can be purchased for $25,000 Canadian ($20,000 in US dollars), and everyone helps everyone.  James then insisted that we borrow his car to drive a few miles out of town to see Barachois Falls and a couple of other local sites.  On our return, he drove us to our dinghy as it had begun to rain.  We were ready for dinner and bed upon reaching the boat.

Our last full day in the Northern Basin featured more rain.  It was a relaxing day on our respective boats, and we watched the waterfall get larger.  I baked chocolate chip cookies, and Otto and Rob dinghied over in the rain for cards, drinks and the cookies that Dick and I had not already consumed.